


Rebel

by Female_Marauder



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, F/M, Gen, Twin-Who-Lived, wrong bwl
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-01
Updated: 2013-06-26
Packaged: 2017-11-15 11:04:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/526588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Female_Marauder/pseuds/Female_Marauder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter was the child that no one noticed, and they had no reason to. Not when his twin brother was the Boy-Who-Lived. After facing years of neglect from his parents, Harry ran away at the age of eight and joined up with other strays. Together, they formed a family, and they were a force to be reckoned with.</p><p>On indefinite hiatus</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue & Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my story. Rebel. I like that word. I like it a lot, actually. Quite a bit of that affection probably stems from the fact that it can be both a noun and a verb. So it’s doubly awesome.
> 
>  
> 
> For those of you who are new to this, welcome. To my readers from The Rebeldes days, welcome back. Yes, I know I posted this prologue already in the Chapter 6 Author’s Note for The Rebeldes, but I felt my new readers ought to have the ability to access it. So, here we are. Also, there’s a refresher of the name changes from the original story at the bottom of the chapter.
> 
>  
> 
> Oh, and for those new people, this is a rewrite of the beginnings of what I’m sure might have had some semblance of being a story that I wrote about five years ago. This version is much more polished, actually plotted out, and, frankly, of much better quality than the previous one. No prior knowledge of the original story is needed. I won’t be referencing it, and, really, I’m only keeping the original up because some people expressed that they would miss it if I took it down.
> 
>  
> 
> I’ll shut up now, and let the story speak for itself. Read on!
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: Obviously, I own nothing.

**Prologue**

 

Quiet breathing. The slightest whisper of rustling clothes. The barely-detectable crackle of a spell. These few sounds were all the guards heard that night.

 

It took all of three minutes for sixteen of the seventeen guards to fall prey to their assailants. Only one remained. Only one, and he was terrified.

 

A small, metal object clattered across the floor. As the guard stared, it lit up and purple smoke billowed out. He began coughing violently after inhaling a mouthful. What little around him that wasn’t obscured by the smoke grew hazy. His addled mind registered a blurred, shadowy outline before he gave in to the darkness.

 

Five figures seemed to solidify out of the shadows of the room. They were all dressed identically in dark, loose cargo pants and black hoodies. It was impossible to discern any identifying traits from their appearances. Not even gender was obvious. Thought, if one looked closer, perhaps the stretching of a hoodie might suggest feminine curves on two of the figures.

 

“Really, Mist? You _had_ to use the smoke?” The speaker was obviously female. Her voice conveyed her exasperation. Another of the figures gracefully maneuvered her way over to the vault that the guards had been watching, sank to her knees, and began the process of breaking into it.

 

“I agree with Eve. I don’t see the point in the smoke bomb.” This speaker was male. Instead of exasperation, however, his voice contained strains of contained amusement, as if he was only pretending to be annoyed.

 

“Jason, for the _last_ time, they are not called ‘smoke bombs.’ That’s way too unimaginative. They’re ‘Mist bombs.’ See the difference?” Another male. His voice was obviously one of a leader, but it was filled with glee. Had they not been wearing hoods, it would have been obvious that Jason was rolling his eyes.

 

“No, I can’t _see_ a difference, as you’re speaking. Therefore, it is an audial difference rather than visual,” he replied.

 

“For Merlin’s sake, Jason. Stop taking everything so literally.” A third male spoke up, a hint of deep-seated suffering tinting his tone.

 

“It’s not my fault that you all choose to speak incorrectly, Cameron.” Jason replied. “Besides, Mist, your obsession with putting your nickname in front of everything you invent stopped being funny years ago.” Mist gasped in fake anger.

 

“Batman does it!” he replied, as if this fact should have made it acceptable.

 

“Well, hate to break it to you, mate, but _you’re not Batman_ ,” said Jason.

 

“Shut up, Jase,” Mist answered.

 

“Maybe you could all shut up so I could finish cracking this combination.” The final member of the group, this one a girl, spoke up from her spot in front of the vault.

 

“Perhaps we should look into a safe-cracking spell, Eve. If one doesn’t exist, I’m sure we could invent something, especially with our combined knowledge of spell-crafting,” Jason suggested.

 

“What did I _just_ say about shutting up?” The second girl sounded even more annoyed.

 

“Sorry, Zoe.” She ignored him.

 

“And…drop three. Got it!” Zoe exclaimed. The vault door swung open. She began casting detection spells, checking for booby-traps.

 

“Sixty-two seconds. Not your best time, Zoe,” Cameron stated as he stepped forward. As her diagnostic results showed up negative, the two of them entered the vault.

 

“I’d like to see you do better! This is the new SpellSafe 3250. We’re lucky I was able to bypass the magical signature scanner. Otherwise, we’d have been sucked into the vault. Damn, I miss the good old days where these things were just three tumblers and near-indestructible. Now they’re _completely_ indestructible, unless seriously dark magic is used. And, even then, you can’t guarantee anything,” Zoe said, annoyed.

 

“I hear that. Even in the muggle world, everything’s so high-tech now. Seems like everything has a retinal, fingerprint, or some sort of biometric scanner attached to it. Watch, in a few years, you won’t be able to make _toast_ without a blood sample. It’s ridiculous!” Cameron exclaimed.

 

“If you two are done soapboxing, can we get what we came for?” Jason asked.

 

“Here it is,” Mist said quietly. He reached out with a gloved hand and gently picked up a bejeweled brooch. It was shaped like a spider, with a giant yellow stone for a body.

 

“You’re sure that’s what killed those women?” Eve asked.

 

“It’s definitely cursed,” Zoe observed.

 

“Yes, this is it,” Mist replied. Cameron pulled out a black box from his pocket and opened it. Mist carefully placed the brooch inside, and Cameron gently closed it. “Let’s go. We’ll destroy it when we get home.” The others nodded.

 

Without a word, the five of them all disappeared at the same time, reappearing miles away in a place they called home. They were eager to destroy the brooch and collect the payment for the job. Little did they know that, very soon, they would be contacted with another job. And this job would shake the foundations that they’d lived upon for years.

 

* * *

**Chapter One**

 

They’d been called many names over the years: urchins, orphans, riffraff, worthless. The list went on and on. One name, however, had stuck with them. The five of them had even adopted it as their own name for their little group: Rebels.

 

Originally, it had only been the five of them. And those names they’d been called weren’t all accurate; not all of them were orphans. Jason and Cameron, sure, but the other three all had at least one parent alive.

 

Zoe and Eve Fadden’s mother had been a squib, but their father was a muggle. A nasty muggle at that. When the girls had started showing signs of magic at a young age, their mother had explained to the family what was going on. Their father didn’t take it well at all. Being twins, their magic held a special connection to each other. It also made their accidental magic more explosive. To some extent, they shared their magic and drew strength from each other during bouts of extreme emotion. Their father began drinking to deal with the stress of concealing their out-of-control magic.

 

One night, in a fit of drunken rage, he killed their mother. The two girls, then eight, fled, fearing for their lives. They would later meet up with the others and find out that family didn’t always have to be your blood relations.

 

Jason Montgomery’s father had come from a dark family, full of Voldemort supporters and Death Eaters. He, however, had sided with his wife on her anti-Voldemort stance, and the two had been killed when Jason was six for besmirching the family name. Jason had been taken in by his father’s parents. Only a few months into the veritable hell he’d been exposed to, Jason ran to a friend of his late father’s for help.

 

Cameron Dodson’s muggleborn mother had been killed by Death Eaters shortly after he was born. One night when he was six, his best friend, Jason Montgomery, had shown up on his doorstep after months of absence, shaking and dripping wet from the rain. He’d been offered a room and hadn’t left. At the age of seven, his father had died of dragonpox, leaving Cameron and Jason with no one to care for them.

 

The four of them agreed, however, that Harry’s story was the saddest of the lot.

 

Born to Lily and James Potter, Harry was the twin of Nathaniel. And, at first, their lives were perfect. Their parents, Sirius, and Remus loved them both very much. But that all changed one Halloween night.

 

That night in Godric’s Hollow when Voldemort came, no one knew what happened. No one, that is, except Lord Voldemort…and the Rebels. They alone knew that, it had not been Nathaniel who had brought about Voldemort’s downfall. They alone knew that it had, in fact, been _Harry_ that had caused Voldemort’s curse to backfire, leaving him marked with a lightning bolt scar on his forehead. Nathaniel’s scar was caused by dark magic, but it was merely the result of part of the ricochet that grazed his cheek, leaving the distinctive swirl in its wake.

 

The world had seen Nate, from that day on, as a savior. He was the boy-who-lived. So, of course, everyone wanted to meet him. James and Lily had been thrilled. Out of all the children in the world, their son, _their_ son, had been the one who defeated the darkest wizard since Grindelwald. At first, they’d tried to give Harry attention. But with all the fuss over Nate, Harry tended to get lost in the shuffle. He was a quiet child, nothing like his loud, outgoing twin. While Nate shined in the spotlight, Harry faded into the background. Eventually, James and Lily all but forgot that they _had_ another son. Sirius paid attention longer, and never completely forgot about Harry. He just didn’t spend much, if any, time with him. Remus, on the other hand, paid more attention to Harry than he did to Nate.

 

Remus had known how it felt to be alone. He had also known how it felt to be outshined by those closest to you. In school, everyone had been focused on James and Sirius. They had gotten the attention, not him. So he knew exactly how Harry felt. Viewing that as a connection with the boy, he spent copious amounts of time with him. He taught him to read, taught him to play chess, and even explained magical theory to Harry.

 

He tried very hard, but he knew it wasn’t nearly enough. Every day, he saw Harry wither more. When in public, or even just around anyone that wasn’t Remus, Harry would speak less and less. He became sadder and sadder until the only emotion he showed was resignation. Resignation to a life of obscurity and loneliness.

 

Remus knew it would eventually become too much for the young boy. He knew there was nothing more he could do to prevent it. He’d tried speaking to James and Lily, but neither seemed very concerned. Their focus was on the son they had nearly lost, the son who had saved countless lives. Sirius had been more understanding, he, himself, having not had much favor with his parents, but, at the same time, he was too emotionally attached to James and Lily to really register the level of neglect Harry was on the receiving end of. Remus could only hope that the boy would last until his Hogwarts years. At Hogwarts, he would still be overshadowed by his brother, but, perhaps, like Remus, he would find friends who would love him for him.

 

His hopes were dashed on the Potter twins’ eighth birthday. There had been an extravagant party, as there was every year. The Potter estate was flooded with guests. Everyone was smiling, laughing, and enjoying the celebration. Everyone except Harry. He had been in the kitchen earlier and had seen the cake. It had been massive and beautiful, intricately decorated with replicas of the scar on Nate’s cheek. In loopy, red and gold icing, it had read “Happy Birthday, Nathaniel!” Nathaniel. Just Nathaniel. No mention of Harry, not even a lightning bolt in sight. Just Nathaniel.

 

It was in that moment that Harry’s resignation turned to anger. He existed, too. It was _his_ birthday, too. But his parents obviously didn’t care about that...or him. That was the moment that Harry made his decision, and that decision was to leave. He knew he would miss Remus, the only person who had shown any interest in him since the night Voldemort had been defeated. But Remus wasn’t enough, _couldn’t_ be enough. Not when his own parents cared less about him than his twin.

 

Harry had packed a bag with clothes, food, and some books before sneaking into his parents’ room and taking some galleons out of his father’s money pouch. He also took a few of the muggle notes that his mother kept on the dresser. As he was unsure where he was going, he wanted to be prepared for any circumstance he may find himself in.

 

He made his way to the front door, sparing one final look at his family, happy and smiling as Nate blew out the candles on his birthday cake. It only steeled his resolve further. Harry left the house and didn’t look back.

 

No one even noticed his absence until Remus arrived later and, upon being unable to find Harry, asked Lily and James about him. When neither had an answer, he began searching harder. Eventually, the parents of the runaway boy finally took notice and joined the search as well. The search lasted two months before everyone gave up hope and presumed Harry dead. A small gravestone was erected in the Godric’s Hollow cemetery for the young boy.

 

And it was this grave that, a few months later, Remus visited, all hope lost. He leaned a brightly wrapped parcel against the base of the tombstone. It was the book he had hoped to give Harry for his eighth birthday. No one heard him as he whispered lowly, in a heart-wrenchingly sad tone, the words Harry had so longed to hear that day.

 

“Happy Birthday, Harry.”


	2. Chapter Two

Home for the Rebels wasn’t anything terribly special-looking from the outside. It was located in a small, muggle neighborhood in the outskirts of London. To any passersby, the two-story house would look just like any other on the street. But it was far from normal inside.

Undetectable extension charms had been placed on the house by a magical contractor that they’d once helped out. This led to the inside of the house being about three times the size that it appeared on the outside. Of course, the exact location of the house had been obliviated from the man’s mind as soon as his work was over. Very few were privy to the location of the Rebel’s home (which Zoe and Eve had dubbed Echo Base, as they were quite the Star Wars fanatics) as they had made many enemies throughout their travels.

It was near midnight when the Rebels returned to Echo Base, cursed brooch in their possession.

“Cam and I will head down to the basement and destroy the brooch. The rest of you, head on to bed. Tomorrow we are going to collect our payment, so you will need your rest,” said Mist. Zoe didn’t look terribly happy about being left out, but she allowed herself to be dragged upstairs by her twin, Jason trailing after them.

Cameron and Harry made their way down into the basement of the house. They’d converted it into a training area. There was an area for sparring, training dummies, punching bags, pretty much everything you could ever need for combat practice. The two crossed the basement and opened the door on the opposite wall. Inside was a small room that could only be described as a bunker. This was the room that Cameron had designed for destruction of dark objects. Supposedly, the walls were reinforced so that, even if there was a backlash of magic during the destruction process, they wouldn’t give way, and the rest of the house would still be safe and structurally sound.

As Harry opened the trunk that sat against the wall, Cameron took out the small, black box that held the brooch and laid it on the table in the middle of the room. First, dragonhide gloves and what looked to be surgical masks were pulled out of the trunk. Harry and Cameron both pulled them on. A metal container was then produced from the trunk and opened. Inside laid basilisk fangs, each with a piece of dragonhide wrapped around the base. Selecting one, Harry closed the container, placed it back in the trunk, and rose, turning toward the table.

With a short nod to Cameron who opened the box, Harry raised the fang and brought it down directly through the center of the brooch. Vile green smoke billowed out of the hole created, and Cameron and Harry were grateful for the respiratory protection that their masks gave them.

Cameron pulled out his wand and made a quick, circular motion. The smoke cleared almost instantaneously, swirling as if sucked into a vortex at the tip of his wand. The two boys pulled off their masks and gloves and placed them, as well as the basilisk fang, back into the trunk.

Truthfully, this was the reason Harry had told Zoe to go to bed with the others. Zoe loved being a part of the action, but she talked. When Harry and Cameron were together, they didn’t speak much. They just understood each other. And neither really liked talking during the destruction of dark objects.

Once the now-cracked brooch was tucked back away in its box, the two boys exited the room, their silence never breaking even as they made their way upstairs. They parted ways to their separate rooms with only the slightest nod.

 

In the morning, the five Rebels assembled in the entryway of the base, all having donned their so-called “dress” uniforms. Instead of their normal hoodies, their black pants and tops were partnered with black dragonhide jackets and boots. Eve, as usual when it came to dress uniforms, chose to also exchange her pants for a black skirt that fell to just above her knees with black tights underneath. Zoe, as usual when it came to Eve’s dressing up, chose to react with a light rolling of the eyes.

“Everyone ready to go to France?” Cameron asked, holding up a length of rope. Zoe, Eve, and Harry all reached out and took hold of the rope.

“Really, Jase? Rope? You couldn’t have been a little more creative?” Jason smirked.

“Hey, it gets the job done, and everyone can easily be accommodated,” Cameron replied.

“Well, excuse me for wanting some finesse.”

“Excuse me, Princess, for not having a golden ticket for you. Now grab the rope.” Jason complied, sighing dramatically.

“Perhaps I should be grateful that it’s at least clean. The last portkey you created was a disgusting old shoe,” he said.

“Perhaps you should shut up,” Cameron shot back. The other three laughed as the portkey activated. After a few moments, they found themselves standing outside the gates of a stately manor in the French countryside.

Pushing through the gates, the five Rebels made their way up the walk through the lush, green lawn and up to the front door. Zoe knocked three times on the door. The door was opened a few moments later by an older woman in a maid’s uniform. She looked questioningly at them.

“Nous voulons voir Monsieur Bonhomme, si’l vous plâit.” (We would like to see Mr. Bonhomme, please.) Eve said in perfect French. The maid nodded and gestured for them to follow her. She led them through the foyer into a pleasant sitting room, brightly lit by the sun shining through the large window that made up one of the walls. Above a luxurious fireplace hung a portrait of a man and a woman, husband and wife, smiling broadly.

Two men and a blonde girl of about ten sat in the room, conversing lightly whilst drinking what appeared to be lemonade. The girl’s eyes lit up, and she smiled as she turned to face the Rebels. This girl was Gabrielle Delacour. The man sitting on the couch next to her was Monsiuer Delacour. He was short in stature, but plump with a small, pointed black beard. The other man, sitting in an armchair, was taller, with dark brown hair, and an aristocratic face. His name was Anatole Bonhomme, the man in the portrait. Both men also smiled at the appearance of the Rebels, but M. Bonhomme’s smile was more melancholy.

“M. Bonhomme, M. Delacour, Gabrielle.” Harry nodded to each in turn.

Harry gestured to Cameron, who took out the small, black box that housed the remains of the brooch and set it on the table in front of M. Bonhomme.

“It is done?” asked Monsieur Bonhomme, his English only lightly accented.

“Yes, sir,” Harry replied. The Frenchman opened the box carefully and stared at the shattered brooch inside.

“Oui, this is it. This is the wretched thing that killed my wife.”

“According to our source, this brooch has been instrumental in the deaths of at least twelve women over the course of the past five years alone,” said Jason.

“By coming to us, you probably saved quite a few lives,” Eve added.

“Régine would be happy that her death was not in vain, that she was able to help others. Thank you,” replied M. Bonhomme, his misty eyes straying to the portrait above the fireplace. Régine’s image smiled at him as she looked back at him. M. Delacour reached over and placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder, giving it a sympathetic squeeze.

“It was our pleasure, M. Bonhomme,” Harry replied. M. Bonhomme picked up an envelope from the table and stood, handing it to Harry.

“Your payment, young man. Thought I do not feel it is enough. If there is anything you ever need, feel free to call on me.”

“That is very kind of you, sir. We might have to take you up on that offer someday,” said Harry, smiling politely.

“Then I shall look forward to that day.” M. Bonhomme smiled back. M. Delacour pulled a pocket watch out of his robes and glanced at it.

“My apologies, but I am expected home soon,” he said, rising. Gabrielle rose as well, grabbing the small messenger bag at her feet and slinging it over her shoulder. “I will expect Gabrielle home tomorrow evening.” He kissed his daughter on the forehead and then swept from the room, shaking hands with Harry as he passed. Gabrielle was almost instantly at Harry’s side and latched onto his arm, smiling brightly. Harry smiled kindly down at her before nodding to M. Bonhomme.

“Farewell, M. Bonhomme. I expect we will see you again in the future,” he said before turning to Cameron who was pulling another length of rope from his pocket. The six of them took hold and the portkey activated, whisking them back off to Echo Base.


	3. Chapter Three

Six pairs of feet slammed into the ground as the portkey deposited the Rebels and Gabrielle at Echo Base. Eve stumbled but was caught by Jason.

 

“Whoa, there, Eve. Be careful,” he said, steadying her. She grasped his arm tightly.

 

“Sorry. Multiple portkeys always make me dizzy. I’ll be fine in a minute.”

 

“Well, while you recover and Jason holds you up, Cam, Zoe, and I will take Gabrielle down to the training room to meet up with the others. They should already be down there by now,” said Harry. Eve made a motion as if to start nodding before thinking better of it. Gabrielle dropped her bag on the floor, jumped up, and attached herself to Harry’s back, forcing him to carry her, which he did, laughing lightly.

 

The four Rebels made their way down the hall and through the door to the basement. As they descended the stairs, the sound of muffled voices began to grow louder. When they reached the training room, Gabrielle slid off of Harry’s back as they took in the scene.

 

All in all, there were four teens in the room. Two girls, one a redhead and the other a blonde, were dueling in the ring in the center of the room. The air around the ring shimmered lightly, growing brighter as dodged spells impacted it, but preventing them from hitting anyone else in the room. One boy in the corner was holding a punching bag as another practiced punches and kicks. All motion ceased as the Rebels entered. The teens looked expectantly at Harry.

 

“Everyone, back to your training. Susan, work on your precision. You’re not aiming very well. Hannah, you need to stop using shield charms and practice your dodging,” said Harry, speaking toward the two dueling girls. They nodded and resumed, with Hannah noticeably dodging more. Gabrielle ran over to watch.

 

“Terry, Justin, switch off. Justin, your roundhouse is looking a little sloppy.” The two boys at the punching bag immediately switched positions. “Cam, observe Hannah and Susan and give them pointers if they need it. Zoe, you work with Gabrielle on her self-defense maneuvers. M. Delacour is paying us a lot to make sure she can take care of herself. We need to keep our end of the bargain.” Cameron nodded and walked over to observe the duel. Zoe snorted.

 

“As that’s why you care about teaching Gabrielle. You just think she’d be a great resource. And, of course, she practically worships you.” Harry rolled his eyes.

 

“I admit, yes, the money is not my only motivation. She _is_ a great resource, and she’s like a little sister to me. Gabby’s a good kid, really sweet. And she needs someone to teach her how to look out for herself.” Zoe smiled at him.

 

“You’re a great pseudo-brother, you know that?” she said. He smiled back at her.

 

“Thanks, Zo.” And she went to drag Gabrielle off to train.

 

“Harry! You’ve got a visitor!” Eve’s voice called from upstairs. Harry turned and made his way back to the ground floor to find Eve at the top of the stairs with Jason, obviously recovered from her bout of dizziness. Standing next to them was none other than Remus Lupin.

 

“Remus!” Harry cried and hugged the man. “What are you doing here? Not that I’m not glad to see you, of course, but, seriously, what are you doing here?” Remus chuckled, but it seemed a bit forced, even as he returned Harry’s hug briefly.

 

“I come on business, I’m afraid,” he replied as Harry led him toward the kitchen. Eve and Jason made their way downstairs.

 

“Another client? We just finished our last job, so we could take on another,” said Harry. The two sat down at the table, facing each other.

 

“No, I’m afraid it’s more like Order business,” said Remus. Harry’s face darkened.

 

“You know I don’t like the Order, nor the old coot that runs it.” Remus smiled apologetically.

 

“I’m not too big a fan myself, of course, but I am a member for a multitude of reasons that I have previously explained to and discussed with you. And, as such, I have a matter to discuss with you.” Harry sighed and rubbed his face.

 

“Okay, what’s happened?”

 

“Nothing. Yet. However, we have it on good authority that Voldemort may be planning some sort of attack on Hogwarts. As it’s now common knowledge that Voldemort’s back, Dumbledore believes that the attack will come within the next year. The Ministry, of course, refuses to believe that he would dare attack a school,” Remus explained.

 

“Yeah, well, the Ministry is a bunch of morons. What else is new?” Harry asked.

 

“They refuse to send more than two aurors to Hogwarts to protect the students. Dumbledore is under the impression that more protection is needed, and I’m inclined to believe him.”

 

“You believe the attack will happen this year? Why?”

 

“Severus Snape is the source of the information,” Remus replied. “While I may not personally like the man very much, he does have inside information and is generally very reliable.” Harry studied Remus’s face for a moment before nodding.

 

“He is. We’ve been hearing chatter about a coming Death Eater attack on Hogwarts. It should be happening within the next ten to twelve months, if our information is correct. And it usually is.”

 

“So you can understand our situation, then.”

 

“What is it exactly that you want, Remus?” Harry asked. Remus looked slightly uncomfortable.

 

“Well, you see, Dumbledore has heard of your…er…group, and he will be contacting you or, at least, attempting to, in the next few days. He wants to ask you to help protect Hogwarts this year,” he explained. Harry just stared at him for a second.

 

“And is Dumbledore aware of our ages?” Remus smirked lightly.

 

“He’s under the impression that you must be rather old, having accomplished so much.” Harry’s face was graced with the ghost of a smirk.

 

“I’ll have to discuss this with the others. I may be leader and wear this lightning bolt, but I’m not a dictator,” said Harry, indicating the lightning bolt embroidered on his shirt. It was completely filled in with grey thread. Remus frowned.

 

“I’m afraid I don’t understand the significance of your symbol, Harry. Did you make up some new, unnecessarily complicated system?” There was a tint of amusement in his voice. Harry beamed at him, obviously pleased to have been asked about his system.

 

“Well, you know that Eve, Zoe, Jason, Cameron, and I all have different skills, right? Eve’s great with intelligence gathering, Zoe excels covert tactics, Jason’s good with strategy, Cameron likes overt tactics, and I, of course, am good at pulling it all together. So we each get our own color that is used to designate which Rebel is in which ‘team’ or ‘group.’ I, as a leader, have grey, Eve is blue, Zoe green, Jason yellow, and Cameron red. And each position of membership in each group has a symbol, too. The leader of a team gets a crescent moon, second-in-commands get filled-in stars, and members get outlines of stars, all in the color of their team. So, for example, Zoe has a green crescent moon embroidered into all of her shirts because she’s the leader of the green team, and Hannah gets a yellow filled-in star as she’s second-in-command of the yellow team. Make sense?” Remus stared at Harry for a few moments in complete silence.

 

“That is incredibly complicated,” he said, finally. “Why couldn’t you use something simpler?”

 

“Because we’re the Rebels! We’re not supposed to conform; we’re supposed to do outrageous and needlessly complicated things! It’s practically in our job description.” Remus rolled his eyes and chuckled. He glanced at the clock on the wall and gave a start.

 

“I’m afraid I really must be going now,” he said as he rose from his chair. Harry did so as well, and the two began to walk toward the back door of the kitchen. From outside, Remus would be able to disapparate. “You should expect Dumbledore’s owl in the not-too-distant future.”

 

“I can’t make any promises, but I will discuss the matter with the others,” Harry replied. Remus nodded.

 

“That’s all I can ask.” He exited through the door, and, seconds later, the loud CRACK signaled that he had disapparated. Harry stared out the door after him for a few moments, thinking about what he’d said.

 

“What did Remus want?” Eve’s voice startled Harry, and he turned around. He’d been so lost in thought that he hadn’t noticed all nine people currently in the house enter the kitchen. He sighed and rubbed his face.

 

“Sit down, guys. We’ve got a lot to discuss.”


	4. Chapter Four

The kitchen table was rather large, but, even so, everyone felt a little cramped as all ten of them sat around it. Perhaps it was the seriousness of the situation, weighing down upon them, giving them a slight feeling of claustrophobia. Ten pairs of eyes were fixed upon Harry, who had just finished relaying to them what Remus had told him.

 

They sat in silence; each of the ten contemplating what had been said.

 

“Are we going to do it?” Eve finally asked, her voice hesitant. Everyone knew how much Harry disliked Dumbledore. What was more, they knew that protecting Hogwarts would probably mean _going_ to Hogwarts. And that was where the Potters were.

 

“I’m not sure,” Harry replied. “I think it’s something we’d need to really think through before we even contemplate agreeing to protect the school.”

 

“If we _do_ decide to do it, you know the five leaders are going to have to go. We can’t have the students already at Hogwarts break cover. It would cause too many problems,” said Jason.

 

“Not to mention we’d lose quite a bit of our inside information. No one would trust them if they’re revealed, and the information we’re able to get from them is incredibly important,” Eve added.

 

“I say we just attack old Voldy before he attacks the school. That’s what we should be focusing on,” Cameron argued.

 

“I think Cam has a valid point. Wouldn’t it save everyone a lot of time if we just headed him off at the pass?” Zoe asked. The others were all staying silent, some feeling slightly out of place in the midst of a leader council. Their eyes all bounced back and forth between the speakers. Harry was staring at the table, frowning in thought as he listened to what his friends had to say.

 

“As much as I’d like to avoid going to Hogwarts and just get Voldemort out of the way, we can’t,” he finally said. All eyes turned back to him. “With his horcruxes, we wouldn’t be able to do much of anything, and three of them are still unaccounted for.”

 

“Then we should spend our time focusing on them!” Zoe argued. “Not protecting the school. Let our inside men handle that.” Harry rose.

 

“I think we should all go back to training. We can continue this discussion tomorrow after we’ve had time to think about this some more,” he said. The others all rose as well and made their way back down to the basement. Gabrielle stayed at the table, watching Harry carefully. Noticing this, he smiled at her.

 

“If you go to Hogwarts, then you will not be able to teach me during the year. Fleur left me already to join the Order. I do not want to lose you as well,” she said. Harry’s smile became more comforting as he extended his arms toward the girl he thought of as a little sister. She slipped out of her chair and threw herself into his arms.

 

“No, we won’t. But that’s only if we do end up going. We’re not sure yet. And, if we do go, I will make sure that I come see you every opportunity I get, okay?” She nodded into his chest. “Now why don’t we go downstairs, and I’ll teach you a few moves.” Gabrielle sprung up and practically dragged him down to the training room, Harry laughing the entire way at her eagerness.

 

Harry was distracted the rest of the day, plagued by thoughts of Dumbledore and his parents. It was a relief when night fell, and he could get some sleep. But that night was not very restful. His dreams were not his own.

 

_Harry was walking down a drafty stone corridor. He passed suits of armor and stopped near a tapestry that he only vaguely noted seemed to feature trolls in tutus. A blue door was set into the wall across from it, and it was slightly ajar. Peering inside, Harry saw not a room but simply a bronze-colored portion of wall. Etched into the wall was a symbol. It took a few moments, but Harry finally pieced together that it seemed to be a crown. As he stared, it began to glow brighter and brighter until it was blinding, and a soft, snake-like hissing issued from it._

He woke with a start, covered in sweat. Sitting up, he groaned, and placed his head in his hands. He climbed out of bed, crossed to the window of his bedroom, and opened the curtains. The sun was only just rising. He blinked a bit in the sudden light and thought about what the dream might have meant. It was, he knew, a vision, a remnant from his connection with Voldemort. But what did it mean?

 

He knew that whatever the crown-like object had been must have been incredibly important to Voldemort. But what could it have been? Then it hit him. It was a horcrux. It must have been. He thought harder about the dream, and the image of a stone corridor briefly flashed in his mind. Yes, there had been a drafty corridor, very castle-like. Hogwarts, perhaps? If that was the case, then going to Hogwarts was looking more and more like the logical course of action. But this was a choice that needed to be discussed further.

 

It was time for another meeting.

 

The Rebels reassembled in the kitchen less than an hour later. Susan, Hannah, Terry, and Justin had all stayed the night, so they were in attendance, along with the main five and Gabrielle. As soon as they were all seated, Harry began.

 

“I had another vision last night. And it seemed to imply that Voldemort might have hidden one of the horcruxes at Hogwarts.” This pronouncement was met with startled, wide-eyed looks.

 

“You mean we’ve been living in the same building as a part of _him_ for all these years?” asked Terry. Hannah looked positively horrified. Susan was frowning in contemplation, and Justin bit his lip as he, too, contemplated this new idea.

 

“It’s incredibly possible. It’s also incredibly possible that Dumbledore knows about the horcruxes. So, as far as we know, he might have already found, maybe even destroyed, at least one of them,” said Harry. “Voldemort has seemed to be weakening, even when we haven’t been destroying horcruxes. And maybe that’s because Dumbledore has actually been able to do something helpful for a change.”

 

“Did you see what the horcrux was?” Susan questioned. Harry frowned.

 

“It was some sort of crown thing,” he replied. “I’m not entirely sure what it was. Any ideas?” No one had any.

 

“If you really think one of Voldemort’s horcruxes is hidden at Hogwarts, then the Rebels currently there can search for it and alert us when it’s been found,” Cameron suggested. Harry shook his head.

 

“They’ll have enough to worry about. They don’t need even more of a distraction from the assignments we’ve already given them.”

 

“I think we should do it,” said Zoe, shocking almost everyone. Cameron turned to his left to stare at her in surprise.

 

“You do?” he asked, other voices echoing his question. She gave him a look.

 

“Yes, Cameron, I do. We need to distance ourselves from our own personal feelings and think about this strategically. Going to Hogwarts ourselves is more advantageous to us. Look, take Dumbledore and the Potters out of the equation for a moment, and think of all the innocents in the castle. If we don’t go to help protect them, then what happens? I’m not saying that the Rebels already at Hogwarts wouldn’t be able to handle a few Death Eaters, but there might be some casualties if there are too many. And God forbid that Voldemort shows up. If he did, we all know that Harry is the only person who could manage to take him on, and even that’s iffy. No offense, Harry.”

 

“None taken. Unless all those horcruxes are destroyed and I have some sort of backup plan, then I’m screwed trying to go up against him,” Harry replied. Cameron continued to look thoughtfully at Zoe. She looked back at him, and their gazes locked, as if they were having a silent conversation, but with only the occasional, slight change in facial expression. Finally he sighed and broke eye contact.

 

“I agree with going, too,” he stated. Jason and Eve nodded.

 

“Then, it’s decided? Unit One will be going to Hogwarts?” Harry asked. There was a chorus of “Aye’s” from the other four leaders. “Well, we shall await the Headmaster’s letter, then. Susan, Hannah, Justin, Terry, you four are in charge of notifying all Rebels currently attending Hogwarts that the five of us will be attending school this year. Everyone is dismissed for the day.” The four Hogwarts Rebels nodded, stood, and left. Jason turned sharply to look at Harry.

 

“ _Attending school_? You never said _anything_ about _attending school_!” Harry just looked at him.

 

“In what other logical way are five teenagers supposed to reasonably be present at a school in order to protect it? What other excuse is there?” he asked. Jason opened his mouth and closed it a few times. He slumped back into his seat.

 

“Great. I have to sit through remedial classes now,” he muttered. Eve rolled her eyes.

 

“Jase, that just means you don’t have to pay attention or really do any work. We already know the material, so we’re good. Besides, there are secret passageways at Hogwarts, and you _love_ secret passageways,” she said. Jason visibly brightened at the thought, and Cameron rolled his eyes.

 

“Well, Eve and I’d better get started on some research about crown-like objects that could somehow be connected to Voldemort,” said Jason.

 

“Cameron and I will start drawing up some battle strategies for a Death Eater attack on Hogwarts,” Zoe added.

 

“Sounds good. Let’s get started, then. We’ve got a lot of work to do. The Rebels are going to Hogwarts,” Harry said.


	5. Chapter Five

Dumbledore’s letter arrived three days later. Gabrielle had returned to France the day before, and Zoe, Cameron, and Harry had been pouring over ancient tomes and texts, trying to puzzle out the meaning of the crown-like object believed to be a horcrux. They’d made no headway.

Eve and Jason had drafted some rather-well thought out battle plans for an attack on Hogwarts, but there were still quite a few details they needed to iron out. So, in a way, it was a relief when the letter came that afternoon. It meant a break from all the planning and research as they drafted their reply.

The letter had been delivered by a gorgeous crimson phoenix that had immediately taken to Cameron, who, though he would really never admit it, was in awe of the creature. Under normal circumstances, Zoe (and Jason) would be using this as an excuse to tease Cameron.

But these were not normal circumstances, and, as it was, everyone was really too distracted by the letter to pay attention to the fact that the phoenix had taken a liking to their friend.

Harry read it aloud.

_“Dear Rebels,_

_I hope this finds you well. My name is Albus Dumbledore, and I am Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It is with the deepest condolences that I must present you with some news that the Ministry of Magic wishes to keep quiet: Lord Voldemort has returned. I know it must seem incredible, but I assure you that it is true. Nathaniel Potter, the boy-who-lived himself, witnessed his rise from the grave._

_As I am sure you are aware, Nathaniel Potter is currently a student at Hogwarts. Therefore, I assume you will arrive at the same conclusion I have: Lord Voldemort will likely attack the school to kill dear Nathaniel._

_Your skill in Defensive Magic is generally treated as a bit of an urban legend, but I have heard firsthand accounts of your brilliance. As such, it is my belief that, if anyone can protect the school, and, by extent, Nathaniel, it is you. I would like to employ your services as bodyguards of a sort, to come and protect Hogwarts during the coming year. If you are available, please send a reply message with my phoenix. His name is Fawkes, and he is quite trustworthy. It is my hope that we can set up a meeting where we may discuss the logistics of your services._

_I do hope that you will consider my offer._

_Yours,_

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore”_

When he was finished reading, he looked around at his fellow Rebels. Their expressions all were of varying levels of disgust.

“I’m regretting our decision already,” Jason grumbled. Eve patted him on the shoulder in sympathy.

“You and me, both,” she replied.

“His writing is so…” Zoe’s voice trailed off as she searched for the right word to use.

“Flowery?” Eve suggested. Zoe made a face as she thought over the word.

“I guess it’s more just the amount of flattery he managed to put into it,” she replied. Eve nodded understandingly.

“This is our best bet, guys. There’s a horcrux at Hogwarts, and we need to find it,” said Harry.

“And destroy it,” Cameron added with a grin. “Honestly, the idea of killing another little piece of him, of being that much closer to getting rid of him permanently, makes it more than worth sitting through a few boring classes. How long could it possibly take to find the damn thing, anyway?” Jason raised an eyebrow at him.

“Considering the fact that it’s a castle? With multiple towers? And even a Chamber of Secrets? No, it shouldn’t take long at all,” he said sarcastically. Cameron glared at him. Sensing an argument brewing, Eve decided to step in.

“Our network does extend to Hogwarts. We already have quite a few members and trainees in the castle that know it well by now. With all of them looking, too, it shouldn’t take as long as it might have if it were just us,” she interjected. Both boys glanced at her before nodding identically, conceding the point with matching stubborn looks on their faces. Eve and Zoe shared a glance. It took all of both girls’ willpowers not to laugh at how similar the boys were sometimes. They may be polar opposites in the personality department, but they shared so many mannerisms, picked up from each other over the years they’d spent as pseudo-brothers. However, anytime anyone pointed this out, the boys would scowl identically.

“Well, we’d best get back to work. Eve, you’re in charge of drafting our reply letter, accepting the offer of a meeting. Just make it sound official and not sarcastic. They’ll give us enough grief over being a bunch of teenagers. We don’t need to start off on the completely wrong foot,” said Harry. Eve rolled her eyes but took Dumbledore’s letter from him before turning and exiting the kitchen, eyes skimming over it as she walked.

“I guess I’ll get back to research. I’ve still got a couple of books left that may have something. Terry’s looking through some of his parents’ collection for a reference to the crown-like object. Maybe he’ll have a breakthrough,” Jason sighed as he exited.

“Cam and I are up for training duty today, so we’ll get started on that,” said Zoe. She grabbed Cam’s arm and began pulling him out of the room.

“And that leaves me,” said Harry. “We may not have much to go on right now, but one thing’s for sure: this is going to be one hell of a year.”


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I’m back! I really am truly sorry that I haven’t updated in forever. Would you believe that I missed over two months of school and discovered that I had six ulcers in my esophagus? Because that actually did happen. That, plus the end of senior year and graduation, led to me being a little crazy trying to get everything done. But I’m here now!
> 
> Special thanks this chapter to Emily, Breanna, and Holly whose conversation with me on the LeakyCon Portland Rockstar Facebook group page thing inspired me to get this chapter done. I love you guys, and I can’t wait to meet you in person this week! (More about LeakyCon at the end of the chapter.)
> 
> Oh, and sorry you guys are getting this two days after fanfiction.net. To be honest, I had forgotten about posting on here because I was going too insane about LeakyCon. I'll try to work on that for you!
> 
> But you guys don’t want to listen to me ramble, do you? No. I know what you want: the chapter. So, without further ado, here’s chapter six.

_Dear Remus,_

_Writing to give you a heads up that we will be accepting Dumbledore’s offer of a meeting. I had another one of my dreams, and it’s led me to believe that there’s something at Hogwarts that we need to find. I’ll tell you more when we next have a chance to speak face-to-face._

_Sorry this is so short. Things are a little hectic here at the moment._

_See you soon,_

_-H_

The letter was written on enchanted parchment of Zoe and Eve’s creation. Only the person for whom the letter was intended would be able to read it. To anyone else, it would simply look like a boring form letter from a vaguely named company. It was, in Harry’s opinion, quite ingenious, really. He still kept his messages a little nebulous, and he never signed his name, an initial or a nickname was the most he’d do. Yeah, he was probably just paranoid, but with the world he was a part of, being paranoid was a life-saving skill.

After attaching his, admittedly short, letter to the leg of the nondescript brown barn owl that had been sitting on the desk, Harry sat back to think. The owl flew silently out the window, off to London and the intended recipient.

The situation currently facing the Rebels was not only serious, but delicate. The life that Harry had created for himself had been painstakingly, intricately woven through years of hard work. It was the life he had chosen for himself, and he knew he had to admit, at least inwardly, that he was a little scared of what might happen to that life after this job with Dumbledore and the Order.

Much as he didn’t like him, Harry acknowledged the fact that Dumbledore had expertly crafted a position for himself. He’d researched the man years ago, wanting to know more about the famous wizard who had so much influence over Wizarding Britain. Secrets had been revealed, albeit reluctantly, by some who had known Albus Dumbledore, the child. From what he could gather about Grindelwald, Arianna, and Dumbledore’s life and actions after the death of his sister, Harry concluded that Dumbledore was more aware than most of just what Lord Acton had meant when he said “Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.” Dumbledore had seen this flaw in himself and had adjusted his life accordingly. For all the manipulating he seemed to do, it was clear, even to Harry, that Dumbledore truly believed he was acting “for the Greater Good.”

That was not to say that Harry at all respected the man or his actions. Regardless of his likely intent to keep himself from gaining power, Dumbledore had gained it. He wasn’t outright and obvious with his implementation of said power. He was a shadow king, a puppet master. Dumbledore tended to nudge the domino until it fell before sitting back and watching to see what the result of his latest Rube Goldberg would be. In some cases, that result could leave a little boy so alone in the world that he felt forced to strike out on his own to find a new family. And, for that alone, Harry could never forgive the man.

Harry knew that, given the chance, Dumbledore would attempt to bring Harry back under his wing. As leader of the Rebels, Harry’s skills were infamous, and Dumbledore would take one look at him and want to have him securely in his pocket. He would try using guilt, promising him the world, preying on the psychological scars that Harry’s childhood had left him with, almost anything to draw Harry in and obtain himself a new pawn to use in the deadly game of chess he was attempting to play against Voldemort. But Harry could see where that path would lead, and he wanted no part in it.

The Rebels’ interaction with the Order would have to be done with the highest level of delicacy and precision. Luckily, they were masters of infiltration. They would have to use every skill they had, every trick in their playbook to gain the Order’s trust without putting themselves at Dumbledore’s mercy. Harry was sure that the man knew something about Voldemort’s horcruxes. He was too shrewd, too knowledgeable to not know. He might even know something that the Rebels didn’t. The chance was slim, but they couldn’t afford to risk it. Any information, any at all, was too valuable in this war. And so, Harry concluded, he would have to put his acting skills to the test.

Lily and James were prominent members of the Order. They trusted Dumbledore above anyone else, Remus had once told him, even their closest friends. His authority over them was incredible, and Harry knew for a fact that they would be put into play the moment he walked through the door. He looked too much like James to not be recognized, at least eventually, as the lost Potter boy. There were hundreds ways he could disguise himself, each less reliable than the previous one. The truth of his identity would come out, whether he liked it or not, so wasn’t it better to reveal it in his own way, at his own will?

He could play the prodigal son, returning home at last to make amends with his only family. A hint of shyness toward his parents here, a hesitant smile there, and they’d eat up his act. A small smirk spread across Harry’s face at the thought. This could be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know, very filler-y. But there was some development, right? A bit at least? Maybe? Sort of? Well, now that I’ve got more free time, I’ll try to work on getting this story done. Well…next week, that is. Which brings me to…
> 
> LEAKYCON. Yes, I am going to be at LeakyCon 2013 in Portland later this week. If any of you are going, be sure to PM me or make a note of that in your review. I’ll be at the Fanfic meetup on Thursday, so even if you don’t message me, feel free to come up and talk to me then. Seriously, please do. It would make my life if I met someone in real life who actually reads this story.
> 
> If all goes according to plan, a new chapter should be up sometime in July.
> 
> ~Female Marauder~  
> 6/24/13


End file.
